Know Thyself
by Hoshi-tachi
Summary: Sequel to KT: the Prelude. When Harry returns on a mission to his native England, he finds himself pulled into a world he never imagined existed... once again. Violence, profanity, no pairings.
1. No Place Like Home

**Warnings and Disclaimers:** I own neither Harry Potter, brainchild of J. K. Rowling, or the Matrix, demon spawn of the Wachowski brothers.

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"Aconite, arrowroot, boomslang skin, camphor, motherwort, wormwood..." Severus mumbled out loud as he fingered the vials of ingredients in his pocket. For some reason, despite his normally perfect memory, the potions master had a nearly tangible feeling that he was forgetting one of the replacements for the cabinet of ingredients that one of the Gryffindor first-years had already managed to destroy with an exploding cauldron. 

Even as he tried to remember, though, he kept a sharp eye on the mostly empty muggle street he strode briskly along. Street lamps, particularly unbroken street lamps, were rare in this part of London, and the last thing the wizard wanted was to be waylaid by some muggle criminal when he'd finally managed to convince Albus to let him leave Hogwarts to replace the ingredients.

Of course, he didn't the old man his determination to leave school grounds had as much to do with getting away from Albus as restocking. Over the last couple of years, since Harry Potter's disappearance, the Headmaster had calmed from terrifying rages to a kind of impatient tension, but now...

They were a month into what should have been Potter's first year, with no sign that the boy was even still alive. Albus presented a calm face to the students, despite whispers at their savior's absence, but more than once Severus had seen him destroy his office in fits of what he could only call madness.

He would have expected concern, or even worry, but this almost despairing anger still surprised him. Sometimes it almost seemed like Albus was actually in _pain_, strange as that was.

Severus sighed. Two years, with not hide nor hair of the boy. And in truth, sometimes he wondered if that wasn't for the best. What would it be like for a child raised in such a way, ignored and ostracized by his own family, and then suddenly dumped into a world where not only did everyone know his name, but his every move was scrutinized?

Either Potter's head would swell until it burst, or he'd have a nervous breakdown.

The light of the lamp he was passing beneath flickered wildly, dragging his gaze upwards for a moment. The October night was cool, even through the greatcoat he wore as a concession to the muggles, and he couldn't help the slightest of shivers. The wizard touched the vials in his pocket again, and stopped dead, finally recalling the last ingredient he needed. "Powdered bicorn horn, blast it!" he muttered, turning to head back to the tiny apothecary he'd left only a few minutes earlier.

But then Severus paused, taking in the suddenly deserted street. His instincts screamed a warning, and his dark eyes searched the shadows as he moved to put his back to the brick front of the nearest building.

For a long moment, nothing happened. The immediate neighborhood was silent, though the sounds of the rest of the city drifted ghost-like over the rooftops. The chill breeze still blew, catching a stray bit of paper half a block away and sending it tumbling along the asphalt. Severus gripped his wand tightly, swiveling his head from side to side as he tried to figure out where the attack would come from.

Then, at last, the silence of the night shattered. Severus' head jerked up as gunshots rang through the darkness, not at him, but a couple of streets over. The wizard watched in surprise as, not more than a minute after he had heard the shots, a running figure rounded the corner onto his street. Another person appeared behind him, and even as he watched the chase, the pursuer raised a muggle gun and shot again at the first person, who dodged just in time.

The potions master frowned as they grew nearer, staring at the two people. There was something wrong with the person; something more wrong than the idea of a midnight chase through the streets of London, anyway. Something about the... proportions... Yes, that was it. The second person was much larger than the first, which mean the one being chased was either a very small woman or...

Severus' blood ran cold. It was a child. The man was trying to kill a _child_.

Many of his students, and even his fellow teachers, called him heartless. It was true that he didn't enjoy teaching; it was only Albus' offer of protection that had made him take the position, and only inertia that kept him in it. But even so, there was a part of him that felt nothing but outrage at the thought of someone hurting a child.

It was that outrage that prompted him to step forward, raising his wand. "Get down!" he bellowed.

The child dove, hitting the pavement even as Severus' lips formed the incantation. "_Stupefy_!"

-

**earlier**** that evening**

-

Harry rubbed a hand over his eyes, trying to get read of the itchy, tight feeling staring at the computer screen for too long always left him with. "So, just the usual, then?" he asked his mother, memorizing the layout of the streets and the emergency escape routes their previous spies had discovered.

Trinity nodded, biting her lip in unhappiness. It had taken a year and a half of fierce arguments before she had finally agreed to let her baby boy out into the field. Even with her warrior's heart, she hated it; eleven-year-old boys were _not_ rebels! But the sad fact was that Harry's presence in the Matrix, with his ability to escape almost anything and the fact that it was extremely difficult for even _their_ computers to track him, saved lives.

And the Council, in a rare moment of unfortunate genius, had made very sure Harry knew that, and so gained the most valuable ally imaginable: the boy himself.

Harry had argued himself hoarse, trying to explain to his family why he needed to do this. That he couldn't stand by and let people be hurt or killed when he could do something about it. He'd been saved from the Dursleys; now he wanted to save others.

Trinity had been the final holdout, but even she finally caved six months ago, on the condition her son do nothing but spy. Harry was now the veteran of four successful missions, but this time was different. It had been a long time since they had had to enter the Matrix somewhere other than the mainframe that corresponded with New York.

Now, they were returning to Harry's native England.

"The Agents are meeting with someone higher up, someone new in the chain of command, according to our source," she said out loud, trying not to remember the last time they'd trusted a source in this area. "You won't be able to listen in to their conversation, but if you're in the alley outside you should be able to get a good look at the newcomer."

Harry nodded absently, and she sighed, leaning forward to tousle his hair. "We'll be just a few blocks away at the exit," she reminded him as he shot her a protesting look. "If anything goes wrong, just come straight to us, and-"

"And be careful," the boy chorused right along with her, smiling. "I know. I always am."

Trinity had to smile back at the spark of confidence that lit his eyes. He was so different now than from when they'd first adopted him. Having a loving family- parents in her and Neo, a grandfather in Morpheus, and two uncles in Tank and Link, the secondary operator Morpheus had chosen as part of the crew- had changed him from the timid kid she'd fallen in love with to a self-assured boy who was growing up far too fast for her liking.

Although, around strangers hints of that shy child still shone through on occasion.

"I know you're careful, kiddo, I just can't help but worry," she told him, pulling her son into her arms. "It's what mothers do, even if they can kick just about anyone's ass."

Harry giggled into her shoulder, then pulled away, looking at her with shining eyes. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Say that again when you're older," Neo commented from the doorway. "Once the girls start lining up and Trin starts sharpening her knives."

The boy laughed, even as Trinity threw her husband a dirty look. "Is it time?" she asked, though it really wasn't necessary. Neo wouldn't have come all the way back there except to get them.

He nodded, and Harry pulled away from her, getting up. "Right. Let's go, then."

-

Hours later, Harry shivered and pulled his coat more closely about him. The alley was dark and filthy, but it gave him a clear view of the entrance, so he put up with the stench. All the same, though, he'd much rather the machines got the meeting _over_ with already!

As though in answer to his thoughts, the front door of the office building banged open and disgorged three easily-identifiable Agents and a fourth, cloaked figure. Harry blinked at that, even as he wanted to curse that he couldn't complete his mission.

"Who the hell wears a cloak?" he muttered out loud, then clapped a hand over his mouth.

Oh, _shit_.

The Agents' head snapped around to peer at the entrance of the alley he was standing in. Harry turned and started running, trying to get out of sight long enough to paint a picture of the safehouse in his mind so he could teleport to safety.

But then a bullet _whanged_ loudly off the fire escape just ahead of him, and he realized that wasn't going to come easy.

The boy ran as fast as he could, utilizing his smaller build and greater agility to dodge around dust bins and piles of junk, putting them between him and the Agent. Finally he reached the turn off into the street and pulled as tight a turn as he could manage at that speed, but Harry knew it wouldn't give him enough time to get away, not with how fast the Agent could run. He kept running down the deserted street, dodging whenever the program shot at him and cursing inside his mind. Harry couldn't keep this up forever; either he had to get away, or something else had to happen, because there was no way in hell he was going to go home to Trinity and tell her he'd gotten his fool self killed.

Of course, that was the moment a dark figure stepped from the shadows ahead of him and raised an arm. Harry felt a wave of despair as he realized the Agents had him cornered, and he started to slow; there was no point in running now. But then the man spoke- yelled, actually.

"Get down!"

For the last two years Harry had lived in a society ruled primarily by military concerns. Discipline was one of the cardinal virtues each of the children of Zion was taught; the ability to follow orders was highly prized. So, when he heard the note of true command in the man's voice, he did what now came naturally.

He obeyed, hitting the deck just in time to avoid getting hit by a blaze of red light that flashed by just overhead, and hit the Agent chasing him squarely in the chest. Harry twisted onto his back until he could see the program, who had stopped running and was standing there, looking almost… dazed?

The man yelled again, in a language Harry had never heard before, and there was another flash of red light. The Agent didn't even try to dodge as the light struck him.

Then Harry was watching in amazement as the Agent wavered, wobbled, and then, astonishingly, _collapsed_.

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A/N: bows Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the first chapter of **_Know Thyself_**! Aren't you shocked? Yes, I realize the title isn't original. Second year will be Know Thyself, Know Thy Past; third, Know Thyself, Know Thy Friends; fourth Know Thy Enemies; fifth Know Thy Future… provided we get that far, that is. 

I debated for a while whether or not to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter of the Prelude, but then I figured, it's already late, there's not much difference between posting at nine-thirty and posting at eleven, so here ya go!

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_Our most sincere gratitude to_ **acr**, **albert87**, **A lilmatchgirl**, **Amaris**** Kincaid**, **angelkitty77**, **aphrodis**, **Blizzard Phoenix**, **blulilly07**, **Braindead**, **CrystalC**, **dairygirl**, **darknesscomes**, **D-sama**, **E.A.V.**, **Eslyssa**, **Fate**, **Firedancer885** (Would you like me to send it to you? If you do, just put your email in a review), **Firehedgehog**, **Fleetfoot**, **Gato****-san**, **girl in the corner**, **goddessa39**, **gourry-gabriev610**, Hei**ress-To-The-Dark-Throne**, **immarriedtovoldemort**, **Inverness**, **jenstarfire**, **Kaaera**, **kayly**** silverstorm**, **korrd**, **lisa**, **Locathah**, **LoLeLia**, **Lorien's**** Lady**, **Lyfe.exe**, **Mithros**, **momocolady**, **Moonmage**, **nina**, **peacockgal17**, **Prd2bAmerican18**, **Rayven**, **ReflectionsOfReality**, **Rkhiara**, **Sarah R Potter**, **shells33**, **Skuld's**** Sentaro4**, **skye****-chan 12**, **Smackskiller**, **Smiley Face3**, **spacecatdet**, **Stratagemini** (I looked it up in the movie credits, no 'e'. I originally thought it _was_ Locke.), **stuck-in-a-tree**, **SunStar**** Kitsune**, **sydneydallas**, **tdk99992000**, **Tobang**, **Toki Mirage**, **Wickedmoemoe**, _and _**wizardmon92** _for reviewing.

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23 September 2005


	2. The Wizard In The Shadows

**Warnings and Disclaimers: **Why do I keep putting these when I have something to declare maybe every three chapters?

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Severus lowered his wand as the man in the muggle suit finally fell. What the hell was he? Nothing human could take a Stunner at full strength and keep on standing!

The boy got to his feet, his movements cautious. His gaze flicked back and forth between Severus and the man on the ground, and it was obvious by the expression on his face that he wasn't at all sure he hadn't gone from the cauldron into the flames. The wizard carefully slipped his wand back into his pocket as the adrenaline faded from his veins, and he held up his empty hands.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said, his voice low.

The boy didn't seem wholly convinced, stepping back into the shadows until Severus could barely make out his features. "...How did you do that?"

Inside Severus was cursing. The boy was a muggle; he would have to contact the Obliviators. "Magic," he finally replied. If the boy was going to be Obliviated, he might as well have something to forget, first.

There was silence for a long moment. "You're a program, then," the boy stated. "Why did you help me?"

The potions master blinked. "A what? And of course I bloody helped you! I'm not going to just stand by while a child is being murdered!" He took a step forward in his indignation, and the youth backed away, maintaining the distance between them. Severus stopped as he saw this, taking a deep breath and pushing his anger down. "I'm not going to hurt you," he repeated. "My name is Severus Snape."

"I'm Harry," the boy returned after a long, hesitant moment.

What little conversation there was floated out into the air between them and ossified. They stood there, staring at each other as the night wore on. The silence stretched, frayed... and just when Severus would have broken it, there was a quiet _click_. The wizard looked to the side to see a second muggle, who would have been a twin to the first but slight variations in his facial features, pointing a gun at his head.

There was no time to disarm the man, or bring up a shield. By the time he got to his wand his brains would be splattered all over the pavement. So, he took the only plausible course of action left to him.

He Apparated.

The muggle was still looking around for him when Severus appeared behind him. There was plenty of time now to free his wand, and while it may have taken two Stunners from a distance to fell one of these things, it only took one delivered point-blank to the back of the head to make him tumble.

This time the wizard kept his wand in hand as he turned to check on the boy. If they'd been attacked twice, a third time wasn't so unlikely. "Harry? Are you hurt?"

The child stared at him, obviously shocked. "I thought I was the only one who could do that..."

Severus frowned. That wasn't quite the reaction he'd been expecting... "Do what?" he inquired testily. He was starting to remember just why he disliked children. There was nothing logical about them whatsoever.

Harry didn't answer him directly. Instead, he studied him carefully, his features shrouded by the shadows so that Severus couldn't see his expression. "Please," the boy finally said. "Please, wait here. I'll be right back, I have so many _questions_-"

Severus was half-inclined to refuse; Slytherins had little use for rules unless they suited them, but they _did_ have a healthy regard for consequences. Bringing himself to the attention of the Ministry for violating the Muggle Secrecy Act more than he had already, especially as an ex-Death Eater, was foolhardiness worthy of a Gryffindor.

"Please," Harry said again. "I think it might be important."

Now, didn't _that_ pique his damnable curiosity... With a sigh, the wizard nodded, and was rewarded with a brilliant smile that almost seemed to light up the night itself.

"I won't be long."

Severus was then utterly shocked when the boy vanished with a quiet 'pop!'

-

Trinity paced within the confines of the seedy hostel room. There was no reason to think anything was wrong; Harry had been gone for hours, but they'd expected that would be the case. Surveillance missions always took forever. Still, though, she couldn't suppress a burgeoning conviction that somehow, somewhere, something wasn't right.

Perhaps that was why, when Harry popped into the middle of the room out of thin air, she wasn't terribly surprised.

She had him by the shoulders almost before he could even get his bearings. "What happened? Was it the Agents? Are you hurt? What-"

"Mum, breathe," Harry ordered as Morpheus and Neo moved up to stand by them. "Yes, it was Agents, no, I'm not hurt, and there's someone you _really _need to meet."

Trinity blinked and straightened, obediently taking a breath as ordered. Her husband put a steadying hand at the small of her back as she released her son.

"Report," Morpheus commanded, his deep voice reassuringly calm.

The boy nodded, unconsciously assuming parade rest. "I was observing my assignment when the Agents and the target exited. However, I was unable to see his face, due to the cloak he was wearing. I made a mistake, and the Agents realized I was there. They chased me for a couple of blocks, when an outsider interfered."

"Your guardian angel?" Trinity asked, referring to the mysterious Oriental man in white who had interceded more than once when Harry was in danger. Normally, she would have been uneasy that a stranger was taking such an interest in her little boy, but the thought that he had another protector out there was extremely reassuring.

To her surprise, though, Harry shook his head. "No, it was someone new. Tall, Caucasian, dark hair and eyes and a _really _impressive nose. He said his name was Severus Snape." He waited to see if the description rang any bells. Morpheus frowned, but said nothing. "I thought he was a program at first, because he dropped the Agents with some kind of red light. And the weird thing was, he_ just _dropped them. They weren't dead."

Morpheus' face was as blank as ever, but Trinity thought she could see the same shock in his eyes that she and Neo were feeling. No one had ever before managed to stop an Agent except by killing them, and even that had been thought impossible until a couple of years ago.

Of course, the celebrations of the rebels involved in that incident had been cut short when they realized that a dying Agent simply abandoned its human host to die while it took another.

"But that's not all," Harry pressed on. "When I asked him, he didn't know what a program was, and when he was fighting the second Agent he _teleported_."

There was silence.

-

Severus could feel his irritation growing as he leaned back against the wall. There was still no sign of anyone out on the streets, so he'd felt safe enough to levitate the still-unconscious men in suits into a pile. It was a welcome, if all too brief distraction from the whirl of his thoughts as he tried to comprehend how a _child_ could even accidentally Apparate, let alone be able to control it like his words implied. How had he learned? And why the hell hadn't one of the magical schools picked him up?

There were so many questions, but the only way he would get any answers would be if the brat got his arse back here!

As though in answer to his thoughts, the wizard heard the sound of cautious, muffled footsteps. He pushed himself away from the wall, his wand held low at his side; not aimed, but certainly ready to be. Now that something was actually happening, much of his irritation had vanished.

To his surprise, the first around the corner was a woman. She was beautiful in the way that a knife was, pretty to look at but dangerous to get close to, and the all-leather ensemble she wore only emphasized that impression. Next was a large black man in a leather trenchcoat that was eerily reminiscent of Severus' own. His dark eyes narrowed as he spotted the wizard, and Severus had the oddest feeling that the man _knew_ him from somewhere.

Then, and only then, did Harry come into sight, accompanied by another man. The lighting was a bit better now, though the street lamp above them still flickered fitfully, and he could see the boy more clearly.

He guessed him to be perhaps ten or eleven, or maybe a year older if he was even smaller for his age than he seemed. He was wearing a black denim jacket over a gray shirt and dark jeans; downright tame, compared to the clothing of his companions. Even the man at his side was wearing a long black duster.

Except for his companions, Harry looked like a normal little boy. Toss him in some robes and he wouldn't look out of place bent over a cauldron in one of Sevens' classes. Although...

There was something about his messy mop of dark hair that rang a bell in the wizard's mind.

They all stood there for several tense moments, the adults sizing each other up as Harry looked on. They were muggles, the lot of them, Severus finally decided, but they had a certain air about them nevertheless that said they weren't to be trifled with.

"Severus Snape," he said, giving them a curt nod of acknowledgement. Downright polite, for him, anyway.

"I am Morpheus," the black man replied with an American accent. He was going to be the spokesman for the group, then? "My companions are Neo and Trinity." He gestured first to the second man, then to the woman, not at all self-conscious about the decidedly unusual names. Not that Severus could point fingers...

"How did you do this?" Neo asked, staring at the pile of their attackers. He bent down to check their pulses.

"Magic," Severus said again. Really, how many times were they going to ask him that question? He despised repeating himself.

"There's no such thing!" Trinity protested, glaring darkly at him.

The wizard arched an incredulous brow. "Your son Apparates at will and you don't believe in magic?" Odd. He hadn't even realized their probable relationship before the words came tumbling out of his mouth. And if he followed the thought further, he would guess Neo to be the father.

Now she seemed confused, along with the wariness still present in her features. "And what the hell is_ Apparating_?"

Severus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. Something told him this was going to be a long night... "Apparating," he lectured, "is the ancient and venerated art of transposing oneself from one place to another."

"Teleportation," Neo stated, understanding.

The professor nodded. "That is one word for it. It's how wizards travel."

"Wizards?" Harry asked, his eyes wide.

"Yes, wizards. I am a wizard, and most likely so are you." Severus ignored the skeptical expressions of the other adults. "Wizards and witches live in our own separate community, away from the outside world. We have our own government, and our own towns and schools." He frowned at Harry. "One of which you ought to be attending. I don't know why you weren't contacted at some point."

"We tend to be out of touch more often than not." The woman didn't seem convinced. "You don't really expect us to believe this baloney without proof, do you?"

The Slytherin's lips tightened with displeasure. "If you insist." He lifted his wand; seeing Harry tense, his family did as well, and several hands went for what could only be weapons. Severus froze momentarily, then carefully pointed his wand off away from any of them. "_Lumos_," he said carefully, and the tip of the wand lit up with a soft pale light.

The wizard heard several gasps, and he brought the wand around so the light fell on his companions. He wanted to see them better, see just what the bloody hell he'd managed to land himself into. Men shooting at a child, and that same child's family bearing weapons, in a country where such things were regulated unto death?

He got more than he'd bargained for. When the light fell on the four of them, it did more than show him their faces.

It threw the lightning bolt-shaped scar on Harry's forehead into sharp relief.

Severus' eyes bulged. "_Potter_!"

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A/N: Hmm. Something about this chapter keeps bugging me, but I can't think of what it is... Ah, well. I'm sure I'll think it five minutes after I post.

In regards to gun laws in England: I'm no expert, but it's my understanding that in the UK you must register to own a gun, and then keep it locked in a safe at the local firing range instead of in your home. You are not allowed to walk the streets with them. I might be wrong. Snorts I also hear they're planning on making a law that requires all kitchen knives to have blunted points, since that's how everyone kills each other now.

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_Our most sincere gratitude to_ **acr**, **A.H.**, **Amaris**** Kincaid**, **APS**, **Baku**, **Bobboky**, **Cetsunai**, **dairygirl**, **dark-artemis89**, **darknesscomes**, **drache5824**, **E.A.V.** (is confused But there _is_ one…), **Fate**, **firegirl**, **Firehedgehog**, **gaia**, **Gato****-sama**, **girl in the corner**, **Gryffindorkium**, **hpchic03**, **Jade Dagger**, **Kaaera**, **karixavier**, **kinguofdoragons**, **kirallie**, **kyer**, **LassyD**, **lily**, **LoLeLia**, **magicalbrat**, **Mithros**, **momocolady**, **Moonmage**, **Night-Owl123**, **nogoalielikeme**, **PotterFrkInTx**, **Rayne Saijeuz**, **Rei**, **Really Bad Fanfiction**, **Rose Richelieu**, **Samantha**, **SelenaWolf**, **Shade Dancer **(hugs), **Smiley Face3**, **stuck-in-a-tree**, **tdk99992000**, **Toki Mirage**, **vire**, **WingsOfFate**, **Wytil**, **xxFluffyxx**, _and_ **YumiAngel** _for reviewing.

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18 October 2005


	3. Parting Only To Meet

**_Warnings and Disclaimer_**: This chapter is dedicated to **Lasgalenya** **Greenleaves** as an early (very early) birthday present. Contemplates singing the Birthday Song, but decides against it so she won't get sued.

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Trinity lunged in front of her son, getting between him and the stranger's transfixed gaze. "What the hell?" she hissed, pulling out her Glock and brandishing it in his direction. Neo and Morpheus both followed suit, but the man didn't even spare them any more attention than simply lowering his stick, casting Harry back into shadow.

"I don't bloody believe this," they heard him mutter. "The entire damn wizarding world scouring the planet for him for _years_, and I run into him by accident."

Trinity tightened her fingers around the pistol's grip. "Look, I don't know who the fuck you are, or really even care, but _how the hell do you know my son?_"

-

Severus finally tore his eyes away from the slight, bewildered boy. "Woman, _everyone _knows your 'son.' He's famous in the wizarding world." He couldn't help an automatic sneer from forming at that.

Interestingly enough, Potter blanched at that information. Trinity just glared at him, but the man who had introduced himself as Morpheus frowned and let his weapon drop a few millimeters. "Is that why you came to his house?" he asked.

The wizard blinked, taken aback, and then carefully schooled his features. "It's why I was sent, yes. The woman who was supposed to be keeping an eye on Potter reported his uncle's murder. Which was fairly nicely done, by the way." Personally he would have hexed the bastard into a pile of mush, but as muggles they wouldn't have had access to such instruments of justice.

"Thank you," Trinity replied with a sweet shark's smile. _She'd_ killed Dursley? Severus was suddenly very much more concerned that she continued to point her gun at him.

"Mum..." Potter murmured. He was looking at the woman with an unhappy frown. "He did save me." Her eyes flicked over to the boy, then back to him. Her lips tightened, but she let her aim waver.

Mind you, the gun was still out, which made a fairly pointed statement.

"You said there was an entire world of... wizards," the third and quietest of the adults said. "Why doesn't anyone know about it?"

"The memories of any non-magical person who encounters the magical world are erased by the wizarding government," the potions master replied impatiently. He looked around the dark and deserted street. "This is not the place to be talking about this."

Trinity glared at him again, but he was glad to see the gun was kept pointing towards the ground. "It's the only place we can talk, so I'd suggest you get used to it. Will our memories be erased?"

Severus shook his head. "Potter's one of us. It usually only applies to muggleborns, but the families of wizards are allowed to know."

"Does that mean the Dursleys knew?" the boy asked, taking a step closer. From the way his green eyes bored into Severus' own, he knew the question was important to him.

"I understand that Headmaster Dumbledore gave them a letter explaining... circumstances."

Potter closed his eyes tight, and Severus noticed his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "That's why, then," the child whispered, a strange emotion in his voice that the wizard couldn't quite pinpoint. Anger, or perhaps there was a hint of relief there… "That's why they hated me. The Dursleys _hated_ anything that wasn't normal… anything _freakish_…"

Trinity's eyes flashed. "Harry!"

He flinched and opened guilty eyes. "Sorry, Mum."

Severus watched the byplay silently, filing away as much as he could about their words. He was right, then, about Potter's childhood; he'd thought he was, but having it confirmed didn't leave him any happier. "You have a decision to make," he told the family, choosing his words carefully. Potter _had_ to be schooled. There wasn't any other option. But if he didn't tread with care with the boy's 'parents' now, there would only be difficulties later on.

As soon as he spoke four pairs of eyes were fixed on him. "And what choice would that be?" Morpheus asked calmly, putting a hand on Potter's shoulder.

"The boy must be taught to use his magic. An untrained wizard is a danger to himself and everyone around him." Potter paled ever so slightly and looked around at his family. Interesting. James Potter's first reaction wouldn't have been concern for others. His second, certainly, Severus had to give the dead man that much credit, but not his first.

Trinity frowned. "He's never hurt anyone before."

"Then it's quite likely he's never been truly angry at someone. Accidental magic occurs during instances of high emotion, usually anger or fear." Again, another difference between younger and elder Potter. James was easily angered.

The boy still looked worried. "Mum, if he's right…"

"It could be a safety feature in the code that allows it," Neo said, lost in thought. "They wouldn't want abilities like that to be out of their control, so anyone who wants to develop them has to go through their training, and losing control when their emotions run high would scare just about anyone into it."

It was Severus' turn to frown. "They? They who?"

The three muggles shared a long glance as Potter watched them anxiously. "We should get this checked out," Neo said slowly. "Just in case. The Council…"

"No. First we confirm, then we bring it to the Council." Severus was about to protest their telling anyone else when Morpheus turned and pinned him with a look. "Can you get to New York?"

The potions master blinked, taken aback. "I… Yes." It was Friday, after all, and for once he didn't have too many papers to grade over the weekend. Albus would want to know where he'd been, but given he was trying to bring their boy savior back to the wizarding world, he thought his time away would be justified.

The large man nodded decisively and tossed him something small. When Severus glanced at the object in his hand, he found it to be a tiny metal bead. "Be there tomorrow night. If someone we know confirms your story, we'll find you."

"And if not?" Severus knew he was telling the truth, but whoever the bloody hell it was they were going to talk to might not.

It was Trinity who answered this time, answered just before all four of them faded into the night and left the wizard blinking in astonishment at the suddenly empty space around him.

"Then you'll never see us again."

-

They were only a block away when the security algorithms alerted him to their approach. The defenses were set to ring an alarm when any non-cleared program or freed human came too close. He fished out his key ring and closed the nearest door, locking and unlocking it with the key that came to his fingertips. When he opened it again, there was darkness on the other side, and he stepped through into the night.

He was standing on a rooftop now, relatively low for New York's skyline. He could see the nearly deserted streets, and the four people in dark clothing that nearly disguised them walking towards his mistress' home.

His face intent, the program leaped down, landing with a quiet thud and a flutter of white clothing after a jump of nearly eight stories. Immediately, the smallest of the figures turned in his direction, tugging on one of his father's sleeves. He smiled, then, as he recognized them.

"Hello," Harry said with a genuine smile as he approached. Seraph nodded respectfully, before fixing the adults with a penetrating stare.

"You wish to see her." It wasn't a question. What _was_ a question was why, when she wasn't expecting them. Usually humans only came to visit just after they'd been freed.

"Something has come up," Morpheus said quietly. "We need to find out what she knows about it." When Seraph's expression didn't change, the ship captain sighed. "It involves Harry."

The program looked down at his young charge, hardly any taller than the first time he'd seen the boy over two years ago, and found two green eyes staring pleadingly back at him.

"Very well."

-

The Oracle looked up from her paper as there was a polite knock on the doorframe into the kitchen. Her subordinate secretary program was standing there, an apologetic look on her face. "Several people are here to see you, ma'am. Captain Morpheus, his crew, and Harry Potter."

She cleared her throat, folding the paper in half and laying it on the table. "Ah, yes. Show them in, please." She was fairly sure she had an idea of what this was about. Though, to be honest, she'd expected them to come see her nearly two months ago…

Ah, well. Better late than never. And in the unlikely instance the Architect had somehow discovered Harry's freedom, at least this would throw off his plans a bit.

Unsurprisingly, Trinity was the first inside; she had never met a more stubborn, pugnacious, yet thoroughly delightful women in all the years she'd monitored the Matrix's chaos factors. Morpheus was just behind, followed quickly by young Harry and the ever-protective Neo. Pity about the poor boy, really. She hadn't felt at all happy about _his_ reading…

"Now then," the Oracle said with a congenial smile. "What can I help you folks with?"

Trinity glared at her. "I know that smile. You know damn well why we're here."

"There could be several reasons why you've come to see me," the program corrected gently. "However, since you've brought Harry with you instead of leaving him safely on your ship, I confess that the range of possibilities has severely narrowed."

The young woman swelled incredulously. "You mean there's still more than _one_!"

For the first time, the Oracle frowned. "Easy, dear, don't hurt yourself. Of course there's more than one. No one's life is made up purely of one single issue. Though, of course, some issues are more… important, than others."

Neo straightened from his position leaning back against the wall. "But still, you _knew_. How long have you known?" Something in his voice- not to mention measured tension levels and infrared analysis- told her he still wasn't quite over the disappoint she'd delivered him.

"Since I first laid eyes on him." There was little point in hiding that fact.

"Then why didn't you tell me?" Harry asked, speaking for the first time, and even though she wasn't generally prone to true human emotions (though she did like to pretend, even to herself), she had to hold back a flinch at the genuine hurt in his voice. "Why didn't you tell me I was a, a _wizard_?"

The Oracle sighed and beckoned for him to come closer, which he did after a moment of hesitation. "Because you're not just a wizard, hon," she murmured, reaching out to brush his bangs away from the scar on his forehead.

"You're the Boy-Who-Lived."

* * *

A/N: You owe this chapter to two people, **Shade Dancer** for breaking my truly irksome HP block, and **Lasgalenya** **Greenleaves**, who had the option of making you all wait to read this on her birthday. Cheers to them both!

For those who think they make have spotted a blunder, before you even get started, no, I didn't just leave the Agents lying there…

Next chappie, more Oracle, and then another meeting with Severus. Possibly back to Zion, if those bits don't make a long enough chapter.

Hugs to my reviewers!

* * *

17 January 2006


	4. On My Oath

**Warnings and Disclaimers:** A few plot elements show up, expected or not by this author…

* * *

"And just what the hell does that mean?" Trinity demanded, scowling at the other woman. 

Instead of answering immediately, the Oracle studied Harry thoughtfully, searching for something in his eyes that none of them could guess the identity of. "For as long as the Matrix has existed," she began slowly, "there have been those who cannot be completely contained by its rules. They were… different. They could do things within the code that its designers had never even imagined. They disrupted plans, caused an incredible amount of trouble…"

"Wizards," Neo murmured, making the connection, and the Oracle nodded.

"At first, the machines simply killed those who were different. You'd probably know that better as the Salem witch hunts and their ilk," she added dryly. "But no matter what they did, more kept being born into the population. Finally, after many years, they conceded defeat, and turned to alternative means of keeping 'magic'-users under control."

"The wizarding world, yes, but what does all this have to do with my son being the Boy-Who-Whatsis?" Trinity interrupted, crossing her arms as she leaned back against the wall. The posture didn't look aggressive, but Neo knew she only used it to get her hands nearer to her shoulder holsters.

The Oracle raised a censorious, grandmotherly eyebrow. "I'm getting to that, dear."

Instead of flushing, Trinity scowled at her, and the program sighed. "Magic-users had already isolated themselves from the normal population in self-defense. The machines did their best to keep it that way, and inserted their own method of population control. Every thirty years or so, they engineer the rise of a 'Dark Lord', a wizard who has, for lack of a better term, gone over to the dark side and decided he wants to rule the world. The resulting war kills off enough of them that the wizarding world spends the next couple of decades rebuilding, instead of advancing.

"About ten years ago, the Dark Lord of the time was a wizard who called himself Voldemort. Your birth parents were among those fighting against him," she told Harry, who had gone very still. "As far as I can tell, they made enough of a nuisance of themselves that Voldemort turned his attention to them personally. He came to their house when you were only a year old and killed them."

Trinity drew in a breath, about to interrupt as she saw her son's pale face, but the Oracle hadn't finished. "Then he tried to kill you, as well. Something went wrong, and it backfired. Voldemort vanished, so completely not even my search algorithms could locate him, and you were left with only a scar." Again, the Oracle reached out to the boy, this time to trace her fingertips over his lightning-bolt scar.

"Why?" Morpheus asked. There was something strange in his dark eyes, steady as they were on the program. Something wary, as though he didn't want to know the answer, Neo thought as the Oracle's lips quirked in a wry smile.

"I don't know. No one does, not even the machines. It was completely unplanned." She looked at Harry again. "That's why you're famous in the wizarding community, hon, and why they call you the Boy-Who-Lived. It's also why the machines tried to keep an eye on you, in case you ever developed into a threat. It threw a wrench into a whole lot of their plans when you disappeared on them, you know."

The Oracle glanced at his family. "They don't realize he's unplugged, not yet," she reassured them. "Magic-users are hard to trace even when they're in the system, and he's the first to ever have been freed, you see. The machines don't even think it can be done to a wizard without leaving him a permanent vegetable."

Neo winced. If they'd known the risks they were taking… Well, the additional risks. Some people never woke up after being unplugged anyway.

"I assume the reason you're asking about this now is that you encountered something from the wizarding world?" the Oracle inquired evenly.

"A wizard saved me from some Agents," Harry told her. "He recognized me and told me about what I was."

"Shouldn't you already know this?" Morpheus asked, frowning. Neo understood why. He himself had never put much stock in the Oracle, but his captain believed wholeheartedly in her infallibility.

She smiled thinly in response. "The wizarding world is technically out of my jurisdiction, I'm afraid. It has its own Oracle."

-

It was a warm and muggy night, even up on the rooftop Severus had chosen as a rendezvous. A soft breeze ruffled his robes as it swirled past, bringing with it the smells of the city: oil and ozone, and concrete and asphalt cooling down from the day's heat. Wrinkling his nose in distaste, the Slytherin stepped back from the edge of the roof and took shelter from the gentle wind in the lee of the tiny building that provided roof access.

They'd never specified a time. Severus had spent quite a few minutes cursing when he realized that, and then informed the Headmaster he would be away tracking down a rare and elusive ingredient for all of Saturday, and possibly into the next morning as well. He'd been waiting on the rooftop since sundown, and growing steadily more impatient by the hour.

It was nearing eight o'clock, according to his pocket watch, before he heard footsteps crunching on the gravel. He turned, keeping his back to the wall, and watched in disbelief as the large black man walked towards him. How the hell had he gotten up there? He hadn't come out through the roof access…

"Mr. Snape," Morpheus said evenly as he stopped a short distance away.

Severus nodded in return, his face carefully blank. "I take it my story was verified."

"Yes." The man's face was carefully blank. "Our contact also explained a bit of history to us, as well."

Severus glanced around for any of the others from before. "I see. And have you given any more thought to Potter's schooling?"

"That isn't up to us, unfortunately," Morpheus stated. "I can promise we'll bring it up with those whose choice it is, but beyond that I can offer no guarantees."

"I see," Severus murmured again, pushing back the snarl of irritation that threatened to break across his face. Were they soft in the head? Potter was powerful enough so survive the Killing Curse itself; if he were left untrained…

The impending catastrophes boggled the mind.

"Do you, by any chance, have an idea of just _when_ you will have an answer for me?" he inquired, his voice sharp.

There was a glint of dry humor in the muggle's eyes. "That rather depends on how contrary they feel like being. Perhaps… a week?"

Severus wasn't happy about it, but he nodded nevertheless. The first steps were always the hardest, after all. "I'll hold you to that."

Morpheus nodded. "Please," he said, leaning back against the wall. "Tell me about this schooling of yours."

The professor used a moment to gather his thoughts. "There are three major schools of magic in Europe. There are some American schools as well, of course, but none with the same… pedigree. Those in Europe are the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, in Scotland; the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, in France; and the Durmstrang Institute, in Finland."

Morpheus was listening carefully, though what he thought of the information couldn't be divined from his expressionless features. "Is there a particular school you recommend?"

"Hogwarts is the oldest and most well-established school. I also happen to teach Potions there," Severus answered.

"Potions?"

"I teach- or at least, try to teach," he corrected with a grimace, "students to mix ingredients together in particular fashions to create substances with certain effects. These can be anything from curing a cold to turning one person into another."

Morpheus frowned. "And what other subjects are there?"

Severus almost sighed. This was going to take a while. Instead of answering, he turned and pulled out his wand to transfigure chairs out of two pebbles. "Transfiguration is another subject, taught by our Deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall," he explained to the startled muggle, taking a seat and waving him to the other. "There's also Charms, which is what muggles tend to think of first when magic is brought up."

"Muggles are people like me? Who have no magic?" Morpheus asked.

The Slytherin nodded. "Precisely." He paused for a second to regain his train of thought. "The other required subjects for first years are the History of Magic, Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark Arts."

The muggle frowned again. "No mathematics? No languages? What about physical activities?"

"Each house at Hogwarts has a Quidditch team that competes with the other houses. Hogwarts divides its students into four houses, based on personality," Severus added at the other man's questioning look. "Do you have any other questions?"

Morpheus was silent for a long moment. "If it is decided that Harry should attend this school of yours, or any school," he said slowly, "there are certain… difficulties that will have to be worked around, if that is possible at all. We would likely require your assistance."

Severus felt his face go blank. Trying to convince Potter's guardians to send him to Hogwarts was one thing, as was preventing the death of a child. Actively helping the son of the man he held nothing but bitter memories of… His head knew the boy wasn't James Potter. From what little he'd seen of the young wizard, their personalities were nearly opposites. But his gut still saw that face, that mess of hair, and screamed it was his archrival back from the grave.

It was childish, really it was. That didn't mean Severus could stop feeling that way at the drop of a hat, and there was a part of him that didn't really want to stop.

Of course, there was that other part, the one with Albus's voice that contended that anything and everything that enabled the Boy-Who-Lived to attend Hogwarts was not only worth his effort, but an obligation on his part. Not to mention, there was that damn Wizard's Debt he owed Potter Sr…

Helping Potter didn't mean liking the boy, or even having to spend time with the boy. Controlling a grimace, as it wouldn't do to let the muggle see just how much what he was about to say pained him.

"Very well," Severus told the intent man. "Should my aid be required, if it is within my power I will give it."

He nearly cried out, then, as he felt an unexpected tug at his magic. What the… Oh, damn it all to hell. His magic had taken his statement as a formal oath.

Severus Snape was now bound to help Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived-And-Went-Missing, whether he liked it or not…

* * *

A/N: Damn it. I hate it when the ending writes itself and insists on throwing in a twist. Pouts It's short, but I wanted to get something out, since there are only a couple of days of school left (Oh, the joys of finals!), then it's on to graduation and college prep stuff. Not sure when I'm going to get more than a few minutes at a time to write anything, but now you're warned… 

Our most sincere gratitude to everyone who reviewed.

* * *

16 May 2006


	5. Lay Bare The Truth

**Warnings and Disclaimer:** Er… don't hurt me? And we're speeding up a bit here. I want to get to Hogwarts.

* * *

Harry sighed as he settled into the copilot's seat, right beside a pensive-looking Morpheus. It had been a long day, even though all he had been allowed to do was pace inside the ship as he waited for his captain to return from his trip inside the Matrix. And now it was about to get even longer, as they cut their current patrol short to get their urgent news to Zion.

"Settle down," Morpheus said quietly, watching him with little expression on his face. "I'm sure the Council will see reason."

"Yes, sir," the boy murmured. "I'm just... nervous."

The hovership captain reached out and tousled hair that didn't need it, prompting a look from Harry that wavered between annoyed and grateful. "Don't be. We'll just take things as they come."

Harry nodded, but nevertheless cast a worried look down towards the hands clasped in his lap. It was all well and good for Morpheus to tell him not to be nervous when he had absolutely no idea why his apprentice was nervous in the first place. Commander Lock, the man Harry had first encountered that single, terrifying time in front of the Council, was of the firm belief that what happened in the real world was far more important than what occurred in the Matrix, and his voice was a great influence on the Council.

Harry wasn't stupid; far from it, according to his family. But he knew that so long as Lock believed that his going to Hogwarts would only help within the Matrix, while it cost what Harry knew it would in resources to keep him in the computer-generated world for that length of time, the commander would come down like a wall of granite against them. If they wanted to convince the Council that sending Harry to Hogwarts was worthwhile, they would need Lock's help, not his hindrance. And to do that, Harry had to convince him first that the knowledge to be gained would be as useful in reality as it would be in the Matrix.

Harry needed to show him magic was real, when he hadn't even informed his family of that little fact.

-

The _Nebuchadnezzar_ shivered as her hull kissed the platform, and then shivered again, harder, as the docking clamps closed around her and her ionic engines shut down. The engines crackled and popped as they cooled down, serenading her pilots young and old with a mechanical symphony as they went over the post-flight checklist.

Trinity stood with her hands on her son's shoulders, feeling how tension had knotted them. "Hey, relax," she whispered, squeezing a bit. "Things are going to be fine."

To her surprise, Harry flinched a bit. After a moment, one of his hands reached up to cover hers. "Mum, there's… there's something I need to tell you."

The woman frowned. She hadn't heard that kind of pure nervousness in Harry's voice in… well over a year. "All right," she said softly, twisting her hand to hold his tight. "What is it?" Beside them she was aware of Morpheus' attention, though the captain's eyes were on his readouts.

He swallowed. "I… the teleporting, it's…"

Trinity waited as he visibly gathered himself, getting more worried by the second. She knew Harry trusted her, even more than he trusted any other member of their ersatz little clan, so the fact that he hesitated this much… Still frowning in concern, she stepped around the chair until she could see her son's face. Harry was biting his bottom lip bloody, his eyes downcast. When she tipped his chin up those green eyes only met hers reluctantly, and there was a deep-seated fear there that she'd only seen once before.

"Harry, what's our rule?" she asked, her voice barely above a murmur, but Harry only stared back at her helplessly. God damn it, but she'd really thought they were beyond this! "You. Are not. A freak. You have a gift, a truly amazing thing that most people can only dream about. But even if you didn't, you'd still be my son." Trinity ran her fingers through his untidy hair, and he leaned into the touch. "_My_ son, understood? Birth doesn't matter. And no matter what you do, or whatever happens, that will never change."

The moment of silence lasted for a breath. Then another, and a third. And then, finally, Harry gave her the tiniest of nods and opened his mouth to speak.

"Hey! What are you guys waiting for, an ingraved invitation?" Link demanded, poking his head inside the cockpit. "It's gonna take time to gather the Council, but that doesn't mean we've got all day!"

Trinity came as close as she ever had to punching a fellow crewmember in that moment, as she watched Harry's face close down. She started to reach toward him, but the boy slipped beneath her arm and past Link, who stared after him, confused. "Did I… interrupt something?"

"Yes," she replied through gritted teeth, sharing a long look with Morpheus. "And I think it might have been important."

-

By the time she and Morpheus had caught up with Harry, he was waiting with Neo near the exit from the docks down into the city proper. "We need to talk to Commander Lock before we see the Council," he said quietly as they approached, prompting looks of surprise from each of the adults. Harry had never been able to hide the face that he found the commander more than a little intimidating, on the rare occasions that they met.

"And why would that be?" Morpheus questioned with a stern eyebrow raised, and Harry flushed.

"If… if we're going to do this, if I'm going to go to Hogwarts, we're going to need his help," the boy replied. "If he's against us, then it won't happen."

The captain nodded. "Agreed, but given that I'm the one proposing this, I find it unlikely Lock will decide to champion our cause."

Harry swallowed, glancing between them all. "I… I think I can convince him. Maybe. If we can talk to him privately, before the Council meets."

Morpheus's stare was drilling holes into Harry's head, and apprehensively the young pilot met his mentor's eyes. "I do believe," the man said slowly, "that after this is over, we will be having a long talk."

Harry swallowed again. "Yes, sir," he whispered.

Morpheus gave him a short, abrupt nod. "Very well. Go to one of the conference rooms off the Council Chamber," he instructed Trinity. "I'll find Lock and meet you there."

His second-in-command bowed her head, still shooting her son confused and increasingly worried looks as the captain strode away.

-

Though it didn't show on his face, in his heart of heart Jason Lock was fuming as he followed Morpheus through Zion's maze of corridors. He didn't like the man, for many reasons, but he still owed him the courtesy due a ship's captain under his command. Which meant that, as much as he'd have liked to, he couldn't actually strangle the other man for insisting that they needed privacy before Morpheus could explain why this little tête-à-tête was so urgent.

It was a surprise to see most of Morpheus's crew waiting for them in the small conference room not far from where the Council was gathering. Neo and Trinity looked as puzzled as he himself felt, but the kid they'd taken in looked up at Lock as though he were a death sentence approaching.

"This had better be good," Lock muttered to the hovership captain, folding his arms behind his back in a position he knew made him look even more intimidating.

"It is," Morpheus answered just as quietly, and began to fill him in.

Lock's initial skepticism only grew the longer the other man spoke. Not that these things were possible; the commander knew he was stubborn to the point where others called him pig-headed, but he was perfectly capable of accepting the evidence of his own eyes. Young Ensign Potter's demonstration before the Council years ago had been proof enough that there was more to the Matrix than they had thought. Indeed, he would have been more surprised if the Machines had not made their control so elaborate.

No, his disbelief lay in the way Morpheus seemed to truly believe that his cockamamie scheme to send Potter to this 'Hogwarts' place was worth pursuing. Potter would learn some very interesting things there, he was sure, but the sheer expenditure in resources and manpower was too much to contemplate for what, in the end, would benefit them only in what was really just a glorified computer game. The Matrix wasn't where men fought and pushed back the Machines, though they often died there all the same.

The war was fought here, in the real world, and Lock said as much in words that, he hoped, cut to the bone. It was then that the boy at last spoke up, his green eyes both fearful and determined.

"It's real."

A silence fell in the room, and all eyes turned to him. Potter flushed, but stood straight. "The magic is real. I… I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but… I was afraid."

Still none of the adults spoke, and the child's gaze turned to search the room. Fixing on an empty spot, he stared at it for a few moments, and then closed his eyes.

And then there was a quiet 'pop'.

-

The buzz among the Council was loud and uncertain; Captain Morpheus's report was nearly beyond belief, and the proposal he'd laid down before them was either preposterous or visionary. None had forgotten his overzealous blunder in freeing Neo, but neither could they help but recall how he had brought them a _wizard_- now that they knew the correct term for what Harry was, a few of them were using it with gusto.

"It's impossible," one member claimed.

"It's difficult, not impossible," another corrected him. "But is it worth it?"

Councilor Dillard had remained silent, up until now, watching the Council she presided over with sharp eyes the same gray as her hair. She beckoned for an aide and whispered in his ear; he hurried away, and she rose from her seat. "Enough!"

The Chamber quieted until every eye was on her. "Before we can decide whether or not to support the captain's plan, we must know whether or not it is feasible. We will wait to cast our votes until _after_ we have heard from the programmers and the engineers. However…"

She cast her gaze over the crew members standing supportively behind Morpheus in the center of the room. Neo and Trinity each had a hand on their adoptive son's shoulders, but the boy still looked unbearably tense as he stared right back at her. "I would like to hear another opinion on the usefulness of this information. Commander Lock!"

The supreme commander of Zion's military forces stood even more to attention and squarely met Dillard's eyes. He hadn't yet spoken a word during the session, a surprise given the known animosity between himself and Captain Morpheus, and the Council Head was very interested to know why. "Tell me. What is your opinion of this mad scheme"

Lock considered for a long moment, aware of the attention focused on him. "It would be expensive," he began. "In both our finite resources and man-hours. It has a high possibility of failure, due to circumstances beyond our control. There would be no immediate benefit, and any advantages gained would be uncertain at this time."

She almost nodded in approval, pleased that he'd put aside his dislike for the time being to give them an honest, if conservative appraisal. Then, however, he continued, and shocked the Council.

"But," he said slowly and reluctantly, as though the words were acid in his mouth, "despite my doubts, I will support Captain Morpheus's plan."

* * *

A/N: I think my writing style changed about three times in the course of writing this chapter… I'm not going to give you any excuses. I'm sure you're all tired of them by now P Be honest, how many of you nearly had a heart attack at seeing the alert in your inbox?

From this point on, things in the storyline will likely pick up. Would you, as the readers, prefer more chapters like this one, or the slower, in-depth ones as shown previous?

And just out of curiosity, does anyone reading play MapleStory?

Hugs to my (hopefully) patient readers and reviewers.

* * *

18 June 2007


	6. Best Laid Plans

**Warnings and Disclaimers:** Rushyness, if that's a word. And experimentation with my formatting…

* * *

A week to the day from their previous meeting, though only a couple of hours after noon, Severus settled into his transfigured chair, this time prepared for the wait with a journal in hand. There'd been no possibility of using the ingredient excuse this time, so the professor had been forced to admit to his employer that he was attempting to convince a recalcitrant student to attend Hogwarts.

Not that Albus hadn't been terribly suspicious anyway, but he'd patted Severus congenially on the back and wished him well with that irritating twinkle in his eye. The wizard made sure to remove the tracking charm the older wizard had deposited before he left the country.

Today, though, he had barely any time to wait at all before he heard footsteps crunching across the gravel. "It's about time," he said nevertheless, scowling as he turned to face Morpheus. The first time he could have been excused for not seeing the other man approaching, off-balance as he was from the events of the previous day, but to have it happen a second time stung his pride.

Morpheus only smiled coolly in return. "Harry has permission to attend your school. I'm here to coordinate how to make that possible."

"I don't know what all the bloody fuss is about. It's not as if Hogwarts hasn't hosted international students before." Rarely, yes, but any obstacles involved in those cases had been easily overcome.

"Harry's circumstances are… very unusual. It took a great many minds several days to figure out a plan that _might_ be feasible." Morpheus raised an eyebrow pointedly at the lack of a second chair, but Severus was feeling more than irritated enough to ignore the hint and leave him standing.

"What, exactly, is it you need from me, then?" he bit out. "My firstborn child?"

Morpheus' lips twisted with a touch of humor. "Hardly. This school of yours. It has a landline?"

Severus frowned. "Landline?"

"I'll take that as a 'no,' then… Damn. That makes things harder…" Morpheus looked out over the rooftop, furrowing his brows in thought. "Is there any way that Harry can quickly leave the school, to get to a city and a landline? We can arrange for one to be in place, so long as he can reach it in an emergency."

"…There is a floo system in place in Hogwarts, but it's strictly forbidden to students without express permission." So long as no one ever found out… Portkeys were also a possibility, but illegal to make, and had to be set to a precise destination anyway. While the oath might require Severus to give his aid, he would chew off a limb before he'd put himself back in Azkaban for a _Potter_. "He could use the floo in my office."

And weren't those words like pulling teeth. The damn brat had better appreciate this, or Severus would see how far the oath stretched as he did his best to strangle the boy.

"And this 'floo' is a magical form of transportation, I take it." Morpheus' face was impassive as the wizard inclined his head. "Very well. Should everything work out as planned, where would Harry meet you to prepare for school?"

Severus narrowed his eyes. "That's all you need from me?" From the dramatics they'd all been going through about this, he'd been expecting his tasks to be, if not impossible, at the very least Herculanean.

"It was our main concern on your part. It's much more complicated than that, of course, but the rest-"

-

Daemon pressed his back against the condensation-covered wall as the DocBot passed by, less than five meters from where he and his team were hiding. He held his breath, sure that this time, they'd be caught, but it continued on without pausing.

_Forward, two by two_, he ordered with hand signals. They leapfrogged through the mindless machinery, searching each space until at last, they found their objective. The operative waved his hand, and each of them covered her with their weapons as the last member of their team came forward, pulling the low, broad cart behind her.

It was the work of only a few minutes to unhook and load the decommissioned pod onto the cart, and then the team had vanished into the gloom, the machines none the wiser for their presence.

-

The programmer hardly dared to breathe as he slipped the Cuckoo virus into the hardline. It was more than a bit slapdash, but still a brilliant piece of work, considering they'd come up with and implemented the concept in less than a week. The soldiers standing guard over him were equally tense, their eyes endlessly scanning the debilitated tunnels for any sign of a Sentinel.

"Come on, come on," he muttered, watching the download bar on his handheld screen. Seventy percent… eighty… ninety… "All right, it's in."

A hand under his arm pulled him to his feet, and the programmer came within a hair's breadth of breaking his neck as he ran for the relative safety of the hovership over the debris-covered ground.

-

"Has there been any reaction yet?" Trinity asked two days later, peering at the monitors. "If they've noticed the pod, or the virus program…"

"Nothing yet, ma'am," the young man seated in front of the bank of computers answered. If he noticed the worry and stress that were heavy in her voice, he was kind enough not to mention it. "Sentinel patrols haven't varied beyond the expected parameters, and there's been a little activity inside the code, but it's all just basic maintenance garbage."

The woman stared at the screens a moment longer, her lips thin and jaw tight, and then she nodded. "Thank you," she murmured, and turned to leave, unsure of her feelings about the news.

Everything seemed to be going according to the plan… so why did she feel like crying?

-

"-the rest has already been taken care of."

Severus studied the other man's impassive face with great care, and at last came to the conclusion that Morpheus wasn't nearly as confident as he appeared to be. While a small part of him felt vindicated by the realization, the rest only grew even more worried.

Whatever trouble the Boy-Who-Lived had landed himself in, it seemed to be far deeper, and more dangerous, than even the usual run of Potter antics. Had it not been completely out of character for the snarky git of Hogwarts' dungeons, Severus would have sighed, deeply.

He had a feeling it was time to dust off all those skills he'd garnered, running with the old crowd…

"What day would be best?" Morpheus repeated, bringing him out of his thoughts.

"Is tomorrow at all possible?" Severus found himself asking. He was not a patient man without good cause, and without any kind of satisfactory explanation being offered, what little patience he had was being strained to the breaking point. From what he'd seen of the other man, it would be difficult to get real answers out of him, but Potter…?

The day he couldn't get at least _some_ information out of an eleven-year-old boy, Severus would declare himself a disgrace to Slytherin House.

A flash of unhappiness crossed Morpheus' face, so brief that the professor had to wonder if he'd imagined it. "Yes," he said shortly. "Where?"

Severus named the intersection nearest to the Leaky Cauldron, and the man nodded. "He will be there at noon. Be ready."

As Morpheus began to walk away over the rooftop, Severus stood and gave his chair a vicious jab with his wand, transfiguring it back into a pebble as he grumbled to himself about asinine conspiracies, ungrateful brats and shopping trips.

"You're the one who wants him at your Hogwarts," the potions master heard, and looked up to see Morpheus had stopped and was staring back at him. "I should think you'd be grateful?"

A thrill of rage ran through him, and his dark eyes flashed as he drew himself to his full height. "And just why should I be grateful that Harry Potter will be _gracing_ us with his presence?" he hissed, his grip on his wand tightening until it whitened his knuckles.

Morpheus' next words doused that ire as thoroughly as a bucket of ice water would have. "Because Harry will be putting his own life at risk to do so."

Only practice kept Severus from dropping his wand in shock. "What do you mean?" he asked, his mouth dry.

"What we are doing has never been done before. We don't even know that it can be done, or what effect it will have on Harry, even if it does work." Their gazes seemed locked together, and for a time every emotion in the muggle's eyes was laid bare to see: worry, resignation, fear…

"Then why…?"

"Desperate times, Professor. Desperate times, and desperate men. I can see you understand…" Severus had to look away from the understanding in that gaze. "Tomorrow. Please… take care of him."

When the wizard looked up again only a bare moment later, he scowled when he realized Morpheus had already vanished, again without answering the question of just how he was getting to the roof…

-

"Ready, kid?"

Harry looked up at the man standing next to him and scowled. "Don't call me a kid."

Tank grinned back at him, reaching out and running a hand over the boy's newly-shaved head. "Sorry. So are you ready, then, Mr. All-Powerful Wizard?"

It was meant to be teasing, but it still prompted a flinch from his adopted nephew. "No, not really," Harry whispered, looking over at where his parents were hovering over the three technicians who were making a few final adjustments to their hijacked sustenance pod, which had been spliced into the pipe network that fed the great energy farms a hundred meters over their heads. "I… I'm not so sure I want to go, now."

Tank pulled him against his side in a half-hug, staring hard at his fellow crewmembers until Neo looked up and caught his eye. The operator nodded pointedly down at Harry, and the other man nodded back, reaching out to catch his wife's sleeve. "I know you don't, but this is somethin' you feel like you have to do. And just think, you'll be learning mojo! The real stuff! You'll have fun!"

Harry snorted quietly, then stilled as his parents approached. They hadn't been angry with him, not like he'd been afraid they would be, but their hurt that he hadn't trusted him, and his guilt about the same, had left their time together filled with awkward silences that Harry hated, but didn't know how to break.

"Hey," he whispered through the lump that had appeared in his throat, and gave them an uncertain smile as Tank nudged him forward.

Trinity didn't answer; instead, she swept her little boy up into a tight hug, and Neo wrapped his arms around them both. "Promise me you'll be careful," she demanded with tears threatening her eyes.

"I promise, Mum." Harry could feel himself tearing up, but made no attempt to stop them from flowing. He wouldn't get to see his family again for months, maybe even most of a year if they couldn't figure out some way for him to take a break, and it seemed like he was losing a part of his life he'd only just come to accept as his.

Neo said nothing, only looked down at him with dark eyes that teemed with his own anxieties and then brushed a kiss across his forward. Then the technicians were calling for them, and they led Harry over to the pod. Connecting all the leads and tubes that would keep the eleven-year-old alive and aware inside the Matrix was the work of only a few, painful minutes.

Then the pod began to fill with the rose-tinted nutrient solution, and no one said anything at all when, as the liquid covered the boy's slack face, his mother turned her face to her husband's shoulder and quietly began to sob.

* * *

A/N: I actually wanted to work on other stories besides this one, since with the last update it was no longer on the critical list, but this is where the muses took me. Might get one more quick chapter out of them before they move on to other things…

And does is this explanation satisfactory for how Harry can attend Hogwarts? It only occurred to me a few weeks ago. I was originally going to go with a scheme that was much harder on and much more dangerous for Harry. Oh, and I did research and found out more correct Matrix terminology, which I fully intend to go back and edit chapters with.

Quick poll: One of the semi-major reasons I don't work on my established stories as much as all of you would like is the constant bombardment of new bunnies. Most of them I give up to the black hole of an adoption Yahoo group I belong to, but some force themselves to be at least partially written. Do you folks want to see them, maybe like in a deal like Rorschach's Blot has set up, or would you rather I hang them in the back of my closet somewhere until they grow up to be full-fledged stories? Remember, they're going to get written and take up my time no matter what...

Hugs to all reviewers, and aren't you amazed you didn't have to test your patience this time?

* * *

19 July 2007


	7. Knowing the Way

Warnings and Disclaimers: Most of the second half was written without the book to refer to and with a headache. Be gentle.

-

Severus leaned back against the brick wall, his arms folded and his dark stare sending the muggles scurrying past. Another glance at the watch on his wrist did nothing to help his mood: "You're about to be late!" it informed him, when he was all too aware that Potter was nowhere to be seen.

Or so he'd thought, anyway. It was as he glowered at a group of teenagers entering the records shop, much to their unhappiness, that the wizard heard a quiet voice pipe up by his elbow. "Hullo, Professor. Am I late?"

Severus didn't exactly jump in surprise, but only because he'd been halfway expecting something of the sort to happen. He glanced at the boy, then at his watch again. 'Right on time', it read. "No," he reluctantly replied. "Where are your guardians?" He'd thought they would be here to see Potter off. They hadn't sent the boy out on his own, had they?

Though come to think of it, Potter had technically been on his own when Severus had first run into him as well. The professor knew the muggles cared for the boy, but he was beginning to question their judgment.

And indeed, Potter shook his head. "It's safer with just me, sir. Less conspicuous."

Severus nearly demanded that he explain that statement then and there, along with all the details of whatever mess the boy and his family were involved in, but it wasn't the time or the place. "Very well," he said stiffly. "On time or not, there will be no dawdling. We've much to do."

Potter followed him into the Leaky Cauldron without protest, though he stopped for a moment to squint at the door. It might have been the weekend, but this early in the day the pub was nearly empty, with only a few regulars hanging around for lunch. Even so, Severus kept the boy behind him and met any too-curious gazes with his own glare. The last thing he needed or wanted was for someone to spot the Boy-Who-Lived and start a mass stampede.

They made it through to the alley behind the pub without undue incident, much to Severus' relief. "Once we're inside the Alley, stay close to me," he instructed. "It shouldn't be crowded, but there are still places there that children shouldn't be wandering alone in." Pulling out his wand, he tapped the entry bricks in the wall that Tom apparently never bothered to wash, and the entrance shuddered open.

-

They had made their way through Diagon Alley fairly quickly, all things considered, but it still felt as though most of the day had gone before the two settled into their compartment on the Hogwarts Express. Potter looked exhausted and somewhat dazed by their whirlwind shopping spree. Severus only hoped that meant the brat would be too subdued to bother him much during the train ride, and perhaps he'd even sleep through most of it.

Though, the wizard had to admit to himself, if never out loud, that Potter had been amazingly well-behaved for an eleven-year-old boy in the midst of a place like Diagon Alley. He'd rarely spoken, and then only to ask questions. He hadn't run off. He hadn't begged and pleaded for more than the basics required for his education, even though a few of the books in Flourish & Blotts had received a second and third look, and the boy had more than enough Galleons to buy them after they'd exchanged money at Gringotts.

He'd had nearly had a heart attack when Potter pulled an enormous wad of pound notes out of his pocket and matter-of-factly asked if they could be exchanged. The Boy-Who-Lived, walking around muggle London alone with those kinds of funds on him? Severus was amazed the brat had ever lived to reach Diagon Alley. He thought it might have been more of that damnable Potter luck, accompanied by the typical Potter arrogance; when Severus had brought the question up, the boy seemed utterly unconcerned about the possibility of being mugged. He'd mentioned a 'guardian angel' watching over him, and actually seemed to believe it!

The train beginning to move briefly jerked the professor out of his thoughts, and he curtly ordered the boy to pull out his new textbooks to read. "You're a month behind the other students as it is," he snapped. "From what I understand a great deal of trouble is being taken to send you to Hogwarts, and I expect you to work to your full potential, however miniscule that quantity may be."

Rather than raise his hackles and retort, as Severus half wanted him to, Potter bowed his head and reached for the bag containing his books with a quiet, "Yes, sir." Only the tense set of his shoulders revealed his resentment.

His lips pressed tight into a scowl, Severus pulled out the same potions journal he had taken with him to meet Morpheus. Using it to mask the focus of his attention, he watched pensively as the boy dove into the first-year Transfiguration textbook. He read the text quickly, occasionally soundlessly mouthing a word to himself. Once or twice he stopped and read a passage a second time. Severus was satisfied after a few minutes that Potter was genuinely trying to learn the material, and he let his thought drift back to Diagon Alley.

Perhaps the thing that bothered him most about the child, Severus admitted, was the way he watched everything around him with those big green eyes. Not just in awe, because Potter hadn't seen anything like Diagon before- though some of that was present as well- but carefully, noting details and making connections. It was something Severus expected out of his Slytherins, and true dread had gone through him then at the thought of Potter in his house. Bad enough to be sworn to the boy, without being responsible for him personally as well. Minerva was welcome to him.

The goblins had startled him briefly, and whenever one was in sight Potter kept a wary eye on them. There was no fear or hostility as might have been expected in a muggleborn seeing a member of another race for the first time, however, only caution. It might have made Severus wonder whether it truly had been the first time, except that their happenstance meeting had obviously been the boy's first formal introduction to magic.

All in all, a very… peaceful trip. Except that when it hadn't complied with his expectations of shredding his nerves with handling an energetic, obnoxious, whiny brat, it had managed to do exactly that. Severus was so tense from expecting things from Potter that he rather thought he'd need a few glasses of scotch to relax enough to sleep that night. Or maybe an hour's worth of brewing potions. Potter hadn't even been interested in visiting the Quidditch shop, a shock to Severus's sensibilities. The boy had simply given the newest racing broom in the window and its few gathered admirers a puzzled look, and then moved on.

Buying Potter's wand had perhaps taken the most time of all of their errands, but the fountain of white sparks finally pouring out of a holly wand had been almost anticlimactic. Ollivander had seemed surprised by it, but after a glance at the irritated potions master he had declined to comment.

A flicker of light attracted Severus's attention, and he looked up to find that Potter had put away the Transfiguration textbook and moved on to Charms. The boy had his wand out and was practicing the wand motions necessary for the spells, and every once in a while as the wand flicked out a bright spark shot off into the air. "Watch where you're pointing that, Potter," Severus barked, twitching his robes out of danger's path.

The boy jerked his head up, and flushed when he saw the black marks the sparks had left on the carpet of their compartment. "Sorry, sir!" he blurted out, nearly dropping his wand in his haste to put it away. "I didn't mean-"

"I'm sure," Severus bit out, anything but. He should have known better than to ever take a Potter at face value- even on the rare occasions they weren't intending to, they caused nothing but trouble. "Review for your wandless classes, if you please, Potter. You ought to be able to refrain from causing damage by doing so."

"Yes, sir," Potter murmured, shamefacedly secreting his wand back in his pocket. He reached for a different book from his bag instead, still casting guilty looks at the scorch marks he'd left. Unfortunately for Severus's peace of mind, it was his Potions textbook that the boy pulled out.

The trouble his imagination informed him a Potter would get into during Severus's Potions class, simply because it _was_ his class, was more than enough to occupy him for the rest of the train ride. Wondering what in the world Potter's home life was like simply couldn't compete.

-

The wards informed Dumbledore as soon as Severus crossed their boundaries, along with a young male, and then quieted. It was a pity they couldn't tell him any more than that, but really, you could only expect so much out of thousand-year-old wards. Attempts had been made to expand them, but the newer wards never integrated properly with those connected to the Headmaster position and had to be renewed four times a year. A few of the trinkets in his office were linked to the newer wards, but a month left to go until All Hallows' Eve, when they would be renewed at midnight, they were at their weakest.

It was the decision of only a moment to meet Severus and the boy down in the entrance hall instead of waiting for them in his office. The entire situation, so uncharacteristic of his Potions' instructor, had piqued his interest and curiosity as soon as Dumbledore noticed the younger wizard was acting irregularly. Snape was infamous for his disdain for children, and was fairly indifferent even towards the Slytherins under his care. The man took care of them out of duty and because no one else would, not because he especially wished to. So why was he going to such surprising lengths to arrange for an unknown to attend Hogwarts, late even? The boy would have to catch up with an entire month of classes, and many of the first years had already separated into groups and cliques. It would be more difficult for him to fit in and find friends his own age.

Dumbledore reached the entrance hall only a couple of minutes ahead of the pair, and was waiting in front of the doors when Snape finally pushed one open. The professor's dark eyes widened ever so slightly upon sighting him, before he nodded and moved to hold the door open so that the smaller figure, and the trunk floating behind him, could pass through. The hood of the boy's cloak had been pulled up, and all that Dumbledore could see of his face in the torchlight was his mouth and chin.

"Headmaster," Snape greeted him, cordially enough. Cordial for him, anyway. "This is the student I spoke to you of."

"Severus," Dumbledore replied. His eyes were twinkling, though as much from curiosity as from amicability, as he held out his hand to the cloaked figure. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I happen to be the Headmaster of this fine school. It will be a pleasure to have you among us. I'm afraid, however, that Professor Snape has neglected to inform me of your name…"

There was a bare moment of hesitation as the boy stared at him, before a much smaller hand took his own. Dumbledore had to hold in a gasp of shock at the touch. The oddest of feelings had spawned inside of him, as though simultaneously he had found something beloved that he had lost, and yet was touching something unutterably foul. And even as his skin crawled at the sensation, the knot that had wound itself so painfully about his insides over the last month relaxed into a quiet peace.

"It's a pleasure, Headmaster," the child replied, with a somewhat muddled British accent. "My name is Harry Potter." The boy's free hand reached up to pull down the hood of his cloak, and Dumbledore found himself staring, amazed.

James Potter's unruly black hair. Lily Evans Potter's vivid green eyes. And, just barely tucked under the dark fringe, a lightning bolt scar.

Dumbledore tore his eyes away to look at Snape, who had an almost cruelly amused smirk on his face. In truth, he wasn't sure whether he'd rather embrace or strangle the other wizard. Keeping something like finding the Boy-Who-Lived from him, of all people! And yet, Snape had found him!

They would be having a long talk about this, later on, after the lad had been settled. Dumbledore did his best to convey this with his eyes, and Snape nodded in agreement. Then and only then, did the Headmaster turn back to the boy.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, Mr. Potter," he said, squeezing the hand he still held while he beamed like a proud grandfather. "Indeed, welcome back."

-

If Harry had thought not gawking at Diagon Alley like a complete buffoon had been hard, it was doubly so now that he had been sequestered in a deep, velvet-covered chair in Headmaster Dumbledore's office. Now, not only was he stationary and possessing all the time in the world to look around, it seemed as though half of the interesting things in Diagon Alley had all been gathered into the large and impressive office. There were sparkly things, whirly things, things that let out occasional puffs of colorful smoke…

Absently Harry took a sip from the cup of tea he had been given almost before he'd sat down, and nearly spit it out at the intense sweetness. Sugarcane had been one of the many species lost in the Machine War, and the boy had only very rarely had real (for various values of "real") sugar over the last two years. Honey was somewhat more common, since bees were used to pollinate Zion's natural-growth gardens, and it was even used in tea, but this… this was foul. Harry set the cup back in its saucer and on the edge of the desk. He couldn't help but notice that Professor Snape had never even touched his cup to begin with, but the man only met Harry's disgusted look with a sneer.

"While I am thrilled that you've joined us, Mr. Potter, I cannot help but to wonder what occurred the night your uncle was killed. Did his murderer hurt you? Is that why you ran away?" the Headmaster asked, his blue eyes kind as they peered at the boy over half-moon glasses.

Harry kept as many emotions from his face as he could as he squarely met those eyes. "His murderer, as you put it, killed my uncle to stop him from killing me," he said quietly. There was an odd itching sensation behind his eyes, not quite a headache, as the boy pushed down his memories of that night. Harry shook his head and it went away, so he chalked it up to the tiring events of the day finally catching up with him.

The Headmaster sat back in his chair with a defeated sigh, suddenly looking very old. Harry wasn't sure what to make of the man- he seemed kindly, but those eyes were shrewdly discerning, and while the old wizard mostly looked like a regular person, every few moments his outlines blurred into the sickly green letters that made up the Matrix's programming. Harry had never seen anything like it before. And yet, despite that, Harry didn't think the Headmaster was a program.

"I'm very sorry to hear that," the wizard said quietly, still watching Harry closely. "Where you are now… are you happy there? Safe?"

"I'm happy, yes," Harry replied, trying very hard not to look over at Professor Snape, who knew at least a little of why Harry was avoiding answering the second question. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. I have a real family now."

The Headmaster sighed again, before rising and taking a battered old hat from the shelves behind his desk. "I'm sure you're tired, my boy. We'd best get you sorted so you can settle in for the night."

Harry was too relieved by the abrupt change in subject to object as the tattered bit of clothing was dropped onto his head, falling over his eyes. To his shock and horror, the inside of the Hat was made of bright green symbols.

_'Well then, lad, it's not often I have to do two Sortings in a year. Shall we see where to put you?'_ It paused. _'For Merlin's sake, boy, relax! I'm not going to hurt you!'_

_'But… you'll tell!'_ Harry thought furiously, his hands gripping the chair's armrests. He was unable to see Professor Snape wearing a tiny frown as the wizard noted his tension. _'You'll tell and ruin everything! They'll take me away from Mum and Dad! And then-'_

_'_Relax_!' _the Sorting Hat shouted in his mind. _'I see your personality, not your memories!'_

Harry didn't relax at all, and it sighed. _'Very well, then, let's get this over with… You've got a good, strong heart in you, and much loyalty, but not much faith in others. You want others to be proud of you, though you haven't much pride in yourself. What are you here for? What do you wish to gain from Hogwarts?'_

_'I… knowledge. I'm here to learn. That's all.' _Harry needed to learn how to use his magic, how to defend himself and others, how to take the magic that worked in the Matrix and translate it into the real world. There was nothing more important, than if he could somehow help his family, his city, to survive.

_'Is that so? In that case, Mr. Potter, I know precisely where to put you.'_

-

A/N: Thank the university for shutting down the greenhouse I was supposed to have lab in today. That left me sitting in the Student U for six hours while waiting for my evening class, with only my laptop and my sister's present to work on. I thought I would be busy today, and didn't even bring a book… but at least I got this done, and a lot of work on the prezzie, too.

Anyway, lots of plot twist hints in this chapter; care to guess at any? I bet you thought Dumbledore would be pure evil, didn't you? Maybe he's a good guy… maybe a bad guy… or maybe a victim. As a side note, when PMing me to ask about a story, be sure your PM isn't too messed up for me to be able to answer you.

Side note the second, some of you know about the running poll in my bio. That worked to motivate me at first, but has stopped working. The question has been replaced, drop by and answer it if you feel like it.

Hugs to everyone who needs a hug.

27 August 2008


	8. The Meaning of Melodrama

**Warnings and Disclaimers:** I tried to follow at least some of the canon guidelines for the common room, but took a bit of artistic license as well. Likewise with the tower system.

* * *

"I'm afraid most everyone is at dinner, Mr. Potter," the professor said in his rather squeaky voice, leading Harry past the (moving!) portrait into the room. "Now, normally we don't approve of skipping meals in the Great Hall, but the Headmaster agrees that you've been through quite a lot today, so you'll be introduced to the school at large at breakfast. The house elves have delivered a plate of sandwiches for you in your dorm, so feel free to settle yourself in. I don't doubt your classmates will be excited to meet you…"

Harry hid a wince by glancing around. The walls of the round room were covered by bookcases, and dozens of white candles in bronzed sconces burned with an unnaturally bright and steady light. There was a statue of a woman in robes in the middle of the space, with small tables and couches surrounding it. A few of the couches were occupied, and the students, all older than Harry was, stared at him in curiosity as the professor nudged him towards the stairs on the opposite side of the room.

"Now don't mind them, Mr. Potter," Professor Flitwick whispered, patting Harry on the shoulder. "They mean no harm by it, and it'll die down once they're used to you, you'll see."

Harry nodded and quickly crossed the room, doing his best not to meet any eyes. He hadn't been around this many people his age- few as they were, according to the professor- since his very brief stay in Zion's orphanage. Even the required civilian classes for literacy and mathematics, and basic coding, never tended towards more than four or five students to a class. There simply weren't that many children in Zion, and in contrast there were many adults willing to teach between shifts.

It was obvious already that Hogwarts was going to be different; Harry would just have to adjust to being around other children. And civilian children, on top of that. These weren't those few children he was used to, who were completely aware of the danger their home was constantly in. They would be more like the children he'd gone to school with in Little Whinging…

Those really weren't very fond memories, and he did his best to put them out of mind. If nothing else, there was no Dudley here to turn the other children against him.

Professor Flitwick led him up the spiraling stairs, passing a door every few feet. "Each year is divided into boys and girls, and each group of students has their own half-level. As you can see, the doors are clearly marked with Runes so that no one accidentally tries to open the wrong door. There are a few minor hexes on each door for anyone who tries to sneak in anyway, catches a few students every year." He paused about halfway up the stairwell. "This is _Sowilo_, your dorm.* You shouldn't have any trouble remembering its shape."

Harry stared at the door and resisted the urge to brush his fringe in over the scar on his forehead. The rune looked like nothing so much as a vertical lightning bolt. "Yes, sir," he muttered in response.

He was ushered into the room, which curved along the outside of the tower. Windows covered the external wall, and six beds were placed at even intervals between the windows. Bookshelves and desks occupied the inner curve of the wall. There was a flash of movement caught in the corner of his eye, and Harry jerked his head around, hearing a loud _pop_.

"Nothing to worry about, lad, just a house elf bringing you some sandwiches," Professor Flitwick reassured him, reaching up to pat his shoulder. "As you can see, the bed on the north end is yours."

The simple trunk he and Professor Snape had purchased in Diagon Alley was already sitting at its end. Resting on the bedside table were a glass of orange liquid and a plate stacked high with sandwiches of some dark meat, and Harry's stomach abruptly rumbled.

The professor chuckled at the sound. "I'll leave you to it, lad. Come morning I'll lead you down to breakfast, and we'll work out what to do about your classes." Humming cheerfully, almost skipping, he left the dormitory.

Harry ate slowly in the darkness of his bed hangings, enjoying despite himself the rich flavors that food had within the Matrix. Zion simply didn't have the ability or resources to grow a great variety of foods, opting instead to grow foods by quantity or in protein vats. The boy had gotten used to it fairly easily, since meals had been scanty and generally the worst parts of what had been laid out on the table at the Dursleys', but that didn't change the fact that, fake as it was, Matrix food was delicious.

The scuffling of feet and quiet whispers drew his attention to the tiny gap in his bed curtains. Between them, Harry could just see other boys his age entering the room, and staring at his bed. He held still, scarcely breathing as he hoped none would approach the bed…

None did. It felt as though hours had passed before the last boy settled into his bed with a rustling of sheets and curtains, and Harry could breathe freely again.

He couldn't avoid them forever. His mission wouldn't allow for it, much the opposite in fact, and the fate of Zion might very well rest on the success of his mission (a thought which occasionally sent a chill through his innards).

But the morning would be soon enough.

Ω

The Great Hall took only a moment to quiet when Headmaster Dumbledore rose and tapped his glass with his wand.

Normally, such cooperation would have been longer in coming, but the students already suspected there was something unusual in the works. The Ravenclaws had spread the rumors of a strange new student escorted to their dorms by Professor Flitwick almost upon waking, and the majority of the student body had witnessed the same professor bring a young, dark-haired boy to breakfast just a bit late. The diminutive wizard had given the boy an encouraging smile and the Ravenclaws a quelling look, before making his way towards the Head Table. The professors there immediately pulled Flitwick into excited, whispered conversation.

No Ravenclaw had yet dared their Head of House to approach the stranger. Yet. The strain of holding back their curiosity was taking a visible toll on them. The other Houses were much the same. The Hufflepuffs made frequent glances towards him and whispered among themselves. The Slytherins glanced at him often from the corners of their eyes. And the Gryffindors weren't making even a pretext of subtlety as they craned their necks to get a good look at him. There was an audible sigh of relief from the entire Hall when at last the Headmaster stood to address them.

"First of all, a good morning to one and all," he said, eyes twinkling merrily. "I hope everyone is looking forward to their classes today?"

There were quiet groans, and he chuckled. "Yes, yes, I'm sure. And I'm also sure you've all noticed our new student? His letter of invitation unfortunately did not reach him prior to the school year beginning, but due to the circumstances, it was judged that making up a single month of classwork would not be an issue. It is my hope that you will welcome him among you, and give him your assistance until he catches up with the rest of you."

Having apparently said all he meant to, Dumbledore resumed his seat and piled sticky pastries onto his plate. Further down the table, Professor Snape glowered briefly at Potter before applying fork and knife to the last of his sausages. Leave it to the brat to attract this much attention even before factoring in his fame. Yes, it was an unusual situation, but not unheard of; and the Headmaster hadn't helped it a bit, being as evasive as he had been. Any student with even half a brain- a quarter, the wizard corrected himself, as half was giving the students he had to endure far too much credit- would look past his banal statement and wonder what was truly going on.

Several of his Slytherins were giving him cautious looks, waiting to see if their head of house would give them direction in the matter. Irritated by the necessity, Severus glared at them, doing his best to impress upon them that this was a matter best left unmolested. For now, at least.

Distracted by running herd on his students, he didn't notice the Headmaster had risen again from the table until he was at the doors. "Oh, yes!" Dumbledore said, speaking far more loudly than could have been necessary. "Mr. Potter, if you'll join me in my office? We need to go over your schedule."

Pale, even more pale than he had been before, Potter rose from his seat and followed the Headmaster. Cursing under his breath, Flitwick did the same, rushing from the hall after them.

Whispers and then shouts rose in their passage. Severus pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers, feeling a severe headache coming on. Damn the man and his incessant, juvenile need for theatrics.

And it had been going so _well_.

Ω

"It's pure favoritism! It shouldn't be allowed!"

The Gryffindor girl's voice was high and shrill with righteous indignation, and Draco winced as he was forced to listen to it. Some of the crowd of Gryffindors around her, and even a couple of Slytherins seemed receptive to her tirade, but most of them looked at her as though they couldn't believe the words coming out of her mouth.

"Are you stupid, Granger?" he finally asked, unable to stay silent any longer. The sneer that came naturally to the Slytherin's face was heartfelt. "Of course they let Potter in. What else could they possibly do?"

The Muggleborn spun to face him, her face flushing. "He didn't accept his letter in time. I know Potter is the Boy-Who-Lived, and that he's famous and everyone is grateful, but he should still have to wait his turn like anyone else and apply to Hogwarts _next_ year."

Draco was amused to see that the Gryffindor had lost all of the purebloods, and some of the halfbloods, who had been on her side before, and even more that she hadn't apparently noticed. "Granger, they couldn't _not_ teach Potter. It wouldn't be safe," he drawled. "He survived one of the most powerful curses there is as a baby, and as near as anyone can tell, his _accidental magic_ took out a Dark Lord. Potter _has_ to be trained, it wouldn't be safe for him or anyone near him to leave it another year."

Granger spluttered. "But… but I had to wait a year, and I was only a month too young for last year's class! That doesn't make any sense!"

He had to laugh. It was simply too perfect not to laugh, and the all the scorn an eleven-year-old could pack into it made the girl flinch back as though he'd struck her. "Don't fool yourself, Granger. You're just not that powerful. Of course you could wait a year and no one would care."

By now he was the only person in the classroom anyone was paying attention to at all, and Draco reveled in the feeling. This was what his father had meant by ruling his year, the recognition of his superiority over the other students even in so small a matter. Other students might have shared his knowledge, the purebloods especially, but _Draco_ was the one who'd spoken up. It was something to build on.

Provided Potter didn't have any designs on Draco's proper place, that was. Draco would never let him take it, but the Ravenclaw- and wasn't that as much of a shock as the Boy-Who-Lived showing up at all after being kidnapped years ago- could make things annoyingly difficult. Draco had had a month to follow his father's instructions and lay the groundwork for his future alliances, but Harry Potter had the advantage of his fame and the known power of his magic. If the Slytherin couldn't convince him that following Draco was in his best interests, or at least to stay out of the competition, then the next few years were going to be… interesting.

Chuckles had spread through the classroom as Draco put Granger in her place, but were quickly stifled as Professor McGonagall swept through the door and to the front of the room. Her basilisk stare challenged any of her students to gossip about their newly-returned celebrity instead of paying attention to her lecture; yet they were as well-behaved as they could be, even if Granger was too subdued to wave her hand in the air to answer questions as was her usual wont. Not even Gryffindors would have been foolish enough to take on that dare, with their Head of House in such a mood.

In the seat near the window, Draco Malfoy laid plans with Potter in mind.

Ω

Half the castle away, and two floors up, Harry Potter leaned over his class schedule as he listened with half an ear to Professor Dumbledore, and wondered how he'd ever get some of his fellow wizards to follow him out of the Matrix.

* * *

*Note: Any time I refer to a rune, I'll be using the Younger Futhark version.

A/N: Some of you will believe that I am bashing Hermione in this chapter. There are times I don't care for her, I admit, but this particular scene I feel is a completely logical progression from her character in the first book. She is rule-abiding to the extreme, while also believing that everything, especially the actions of authority figures, must and will be fair to all. She is also friendless, as in canon; in canon, I suspect that this was the result not just of her reliance on her intelligence and a lack of social skills, as shown in many other fics, but a combination of knowing both that she was smarter and older than her peers (born in September, she is nearly a year older than Harry), and therefore obviously more mature than her peers. Which she is, in some ways, and yet more immature in others.

I decided I wasn't going to sleep tonight until I had at least two chapters finished and posted, perhaps with a couple of the drabbles that have been distracting me lately as well. Sort of a Christmas present to myself that you might enjoy a bit too, and since those two chapters were maybe 500 words each from being semi-finished, completely doable. And yes, it's short. I suspect I've been somewhat depressed for a few months now, so it feels good to be writing at all.

* * *

25 December 2010


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